Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1)

by Nicholas Andrews

  “I’ve told her you’re the biggest thief I’ve ever met,” Nerris said.

  “World’s Greatest Thief,” Jhareth said. He offered Len-Ahl her unfinished fipple flute.

  Len-Ahl’s other hand went to her pocket, which she found empty. “You stole that! I didn’t even feel it!”

  Jhareth wiggled his fingers. “Smooth hands. You know what they say: great thief, greater lover.”

  “No one says that,” Nerris said. “You say that.”

  The crowd around them had expanded, once word spread that two of the Thrillseekers were present. Jhareth folded his arms and gave the crowd a cursory glance. “Before our little reunion, I believe you wanted to cross blades, Nerris. I must confess I am not your match with a sword. With a Miagamese blade, you would cut me up into little pieces in no time. How about an exhibition? Does anyone have wooden blades for us?”

  A young man ran off and returned a few moments later with two wooden swords. Nerris and Jhareth each took one, and they separated, standing about five paces apart. Nerris took off his sword belt and handed it to Len-Ahl. Jhareth removed two knives from his own belt and stuck them into the ground. He brandished his wooden weapon with practiced flair.

  “What you are about to see is the fruits of over three years of training at Gauntlet, the finest school of martial marvels to ever exist,” he told the crowd. “The smart money is on Nerris. When I was a youth, I had eyes only for my knives, but he strove to make me more versatile. Everything I know of swords, I learned courtesy of him.”

  Bets were taken, and a slow clap rang from the crowd as Nerris entered a fighting stance. When someone yelled “Fight!” they had at each other, throwing stroke after stroke. Jhareth was no slouch with a blade, but Nerris’s reputation as one of the finest swordsmen in the land was well-earned. He also had a slight height advantage over his friend, and drove him back over the line of the impromptu circle which had formed. Jhareth rolled backward and came to his feet, discarding the blade.

  “What say we make this more interesting,” he said. “Does anyone have anything smaller?” Two small boys offered up their own wooden swords, no bigger than daggers. “Thank you, sons.” Jhareth weaved them in front of himself so rapidly the crowd could not follow. He dropped into a fighting stance, and Nerris attacked again.

  This time, Jhareth fared much better. Nerris now had to worry about two blades coming at him, and he had to double his own speed to keep up with blocking Jhareth’s strokes. Finally, he saw his opening and drove into his friend. Jhareth tried to roll back again, but Nerris met him with a downward cleaving stroke as he found his feet and Jhareth barely got up his wooden daggers in time. His crossed parry blocked Nerris’s own sword and they stood there, testing their strength against one another.

  Out of nowhere, something struck Nerris in the side of his head, distracting him. Nerris released himself from the standstill and looked to the ground, where a long, fletched shaft lay on the grass, with a small cloth sack attached to the end. A practice arrow.

  A curse from Jhareth a moment later told Nerris that Jhareth had been struck by a similar missile. They glanced to their right, where a well-muscled man with blond hair stood upon a terrace. In his hands he held a hunting bow, and a wide grin spread across his face.

  Nerris laughed. “Dist!”

  The appearance of the last of the Thrillseekers inspired the crowd into raucous applause. Dist bowed before them, and one of the villagers raised his hand into the air. “Winner!”

  The villagers cheered even louder as tankards clanked together and men, women, and children alike stomped their feet. Len-Ahl approached Nerris. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” Nerris said. “Jhareth is a walking cry for attention, so I decided to play along, that’s all. If you haven’t guessed, that man over there is my other best friend. Dist Schies.”

  The terrace Dist stood atop had old building stones embedded in the side. It had once been part of a holdfast in the days of yore, when lords ruled from this site. Dist jumped to level ground and approached his friends. He embraced Nerris and clasped hands with Jhareth as the crowd clapped around them. Unlikely as it seemed, the Thrillseekers were together again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  WHAT’S THE IDEA?” Jhareth called out to Dist. “I almost had him. I was about to clean up on the betting.”

  Dist rolled his eyes. “Sure you were.” He punched Nerris in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you finally showed up. We tried to get word to you about the wedding, but you’re a hard one to reach.”

  “You both knew about this?” Nerris asked.

  “I came home to visit my family a couple months back and learned about the wedding,” Dist said. “I got word to Jhareth as soon as I could, and he came right away.”

  “I can’t believe we’re all here,” Nerris said. “We have got to catch up.”

  “Right.” Jhareth shooed the spectators away with his arms. “All right, show’s finished! Get on, all of you!”

  The crowd filtered away, but one young woman stayed. She had long, brown hair and wore a plain, linen dress. Nerris engulfed her in a hug when he noticed her. “Melantha!”

  Melantha warmly returned the hug. “Hello, Nerris. Leave it to you three to outdo me at my own wedding.”

  Nerris took a good look at the woman who had once tagged along after him, Dist, and Jhareth as children. Her father was well-to-do in the village, boasted the biggest house, and had never approved of Melantha’s choice of friends. She was all grown up now, and her smile still lifted the clouds themselves.

  “When are we going to meet this betrothed of yours?” Nerris asked.

  “Probably not until the ceremony tomorrow,” she said. “He and his brothers are out hunting. He means to bring home a great stag for the feast.” Len-Ahl made a somewhat dubious noise, drawing Melantha’s attention. “And who is this?”

  Nerris introduced them to Len-Ahl, and Melantha gave her a hug as well, which startled his companion. She took an instinctive step back, but returned the embrace once she saw no harm in the gesture. “It is nice to meet you,” she said. “Nerris has been telling me all kinds of stories.”

  “I bet he has,” Melantha said. “My boys were always a bit rambunctious in the old days.” She took Len-Ahl’s hands. “On behalf of our village, I welcome you to Haladast.”

  “Listen, Melantha,” Nerris said. “Len-Ahl has lost her home. I was wondering, if for a little while—”

  “Say no more,” Melantha said. “Len-Ahl, you are welcome in my home for as long as you need to stay. It’s a bit crowded for the wedding at the moment, but I’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere. You don’t look like you take up all that much space.” She gave her a sly wink.

  “Where have you been?” Dist said to Nerris. “The messenger I hired to send for you brought back all kinds of crazy stories about you marrying the new Queen of Yagolhan. Said you had joined up with her army.”

  “That last part’s true enough,” Nerris said. He didn’t particularly feel like indulging his friends in what he felt for Qabala or the circumstances around his departure from Palehorse. “What happened to you? I remember you being a little pudgier.”

  Dist flexed his arm. “What, this? That’s what happens after a few months of unloading ships in Khafi.”

  “You were a porter? I find that hard to believe.”

  Dist shrugged. “Sicorians are all lazy, so they pay well for good workers. Besides, you remember that exploding powder they used in Miagama? I set about making my own recipe, and the desert was the perfect place to test it. Plenty of open spaces, not many people about—”

  “Uh oh, they’re talking shop,” Melantha said to Len-Ahl. “Why don’t you come with me, Len-Ahl? Unless you want to be bored to death with talk of the advantages and disadvantages of melee, long range, and projectile weaponry. I’m sure the boys have much to reminisce about, and you can help me pick out a dress for tomorrow.”

  Len-Ahl bit her lower lip and looked a
t Nerris. “Um...”

  Nerris nodded. “It’s all right. Melantha will take good care of you.”

  She still cast an anxious glance at Nerris, even as Melantha led her away. Nerris gave her his best reassuring smile. Dist picked his practice arrows up from the ground.

  “You were right there in the Yagol Civil War?” Jhareth asked. “I didn’t figure you to go for soldiering. You don’t really follow orders very well, Nerris.”

  “When I passed through Locraw, I heard this Queen Qabala could be trouble for the eastern kingdoms,” Dist said, “that she doesn’t plan on stopping once she has the Yagol throne.”

  Jhareth brushed off his concern. “That’s for King Maerlos to worry about. What I’m more interested in is whether or not you picked up any leads for treasure in Yagolhan.”

  “Is that all you think about?” Nerris asked. “Is that the reason for your little game over there? Trying to fund an expedition?”

  “That was just a diversion,” Jhareth said. “You can only drink with village folk for so long before you’ve heard everything they have to say. I’m after much bigger game.”

  He leaned on the back wall of the inn and put his hands behind his head. Nerris and Dist glanced at each other. Nerris was sure he had the same thought. Jhareth was waiting for one of them to ask what he was up to. Neither wanted to give him the satisfaction, but both were curious.

  Finally, Dist broke. “What are you after?”

  Jhareth grinned. “The Stonechaser Prophecy.” Dist groaned, and Nerris rolled his eyes. “What?”

  “There’s no treasure to be had from that old rag,” Dist said. “Everyone and their dog have gone after the Exemplus.”

  Nerris tended to agree with his sun-haired friend. The Stonechaser Prophecy was supposedly written by the queen of the faeries, and it contained passages about a quest for a large jewel of immeasurable worth. Many had tried deciphering the prophecy over the centuries and gotten nowhere. Most these days regarded the passages as an allusion to something spiritual rather than physical. But what Rade had said to him all those months ago about the prophecies came rushing back. He had been told to go home, and now that he was here, his old friend showed up talking about the Stonechaser Prophecy. Did this mean something, or was it coincidence?

  “No one has ever found a trace of the Exemplus,” Nerris said.

  “That’s because they didn’t have a copy written in the original language,” Jhareth said. “You know how text can get lost in translation after translation. I have one of the original copies.”

  Nerris rolled his eyes. “Right. Let’s see it, then.”

  Jhareth sighed in exasperation. “I don’t have it on me. But I can get to it easily. You two interested?”

  The fact that Jhareth was speaking of the Stonechaser Prophecy intrigued Nerris. But what if it had nothing to do with anything Rade had said? And he would leave Haladast when he just arrived, and leave Len-Ahl behind as well. Though he trusted Melantha to take care of her, the forest girl had gone her entire life without much human interaction. Jhareth had been playing around with his flirting, but she gave her trust without consideration. She would invite all kinds of trouble without someone to watch out for her.

  He shared a glance at Dist, and could sense he was much of the same mind. Though it appeared Jhareth never gave up on treasure hunting, Dist had made a new life for himself over the last three years.

  “Once I finish my visit, I’ll be heading back to Sicoria,” Dist said. “I have experiments to conduct.”

  “You can blow things up on the road,” Jhareth said, turning to Nerris. “Well?”

  Nerris shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Jhareth’s shoulders slumped. “What happened to both of you? You used to be a lot more fun.”

  Nerris clapped his friend on the shoulder. “We all have to move on sometime. Let’s go in there and see if Craddis has any beer left in the place. I want to hear what you two have been up to since we parted ways.”

  The beer was stale and plain as village brew tended to be, but Nerris choked down a couple of tankards while he, Jhareth, and Dist exchanged stories about their time after the Thrillseekers. They met Melantha’s betrothed that night, as he strode into the village dragging a dead buck with the help of his brothers. He was a sturdy lad named Brannos, a few years younger than themselves with an honest face and an apparent talent for animal husbandry. Nerris thought he was a bit of a hayseed, but he seemed nice enough.

  The next morning dawned clear and sunny, much to Melantha’s delight. The village rushed to finish any final preparations for the wedding, and by the late afternoon, benches had been assembled in front of a large elder tree at the edge of town. Nerris spent most of his time clasping hands with old acquaintances, most of which had children or even grandchildren by now. Many villagers he met for the first time, both of Haladast and Earthill.

  He also introduced Len-Ahl to Dist’s folks, Martias and Denisa, who were thrilled to see him again after so many years. He was glad as well; he thought they might hold some resentment for taking their son away with them all those years ago, but like when they were children, they said he and Jhareth were still welcome at their home.

  He also showed Len-Ahl the house he grew up in, which had taken a beating over the years from weather and overgrowth. It was a modest dwelling, consisting of two bedrooms and a common room. Despite its age, he almost expected his mother to emerge at any moment, telling him it was dinnertime and giving the dirt on his hands a disapproving gaze.

  Dist explained Rienna had been so loved the villagers had not allowed anyone to move into her home or tear it down. It just sat there as a kind of monument ever since her death.

  Around sunset, Rannis, the elderly village magistrate, declared they were ready to begin the ceremony. Nerris, Jhareth, and Dist sat together and Len-Ahl soon joined them, wearing a fresh, clean dress Melantha had lent her. Her hair had been brushed straight back, and Nerris noticed it brought out her eyes. He met her green gaze and smiled, complimenting her loveliness. Len-Ahl blushed a little and managed to stammer out a thank you.

  “Isn’t a priest of Clystam going to marry them?” Dist asked as old Rannis took his place under the elder tree, facing the guests.

  “The priesthood is stretched a bit thin these days,” Jhareth said. “It’s not like when we were children, or even when we were traveling together. Many of the old priests are dying out, and they’ve been having trouble getting fresh recruits.”

  “I wonder why,” Nerris said.

  “Some say the Deinovi don’t answer prayers anymore,” Jhareth said, using the classical term for the New Gods. “Or that people don’t believe like they used to. Even the Dominarch has shut himself in on Dania Isle. But who can say, really? The gods not answering prayers is a complaint as old as the world.”

  One thing the ceremony didn’t lack was musicians, some of whom looked a bit haggard from all the drinking the day before. A violist, lutist, and even a bagpiper had come down from Earthill, and were joined by villagers of Haladast on drum, flute, and harp. Little Faria, who had been a small child when Nerris had left, led them with a beautiful voice in perfect pitch.

  They played a decent rendition of a traditional wedding march as Melantha walked toward the elder tree, accompanied by her father and carrying a bouquet of baby’s breath. She wore a beige-colored dress and a wreath of daisies adorned her head. She handed off the bouquet to one of her friends and took Brannos’s hands, staring into his eyes as if they were the only two people present.

  The ceremony was a short one, as Rannis was not one for long speeches. He did not read from the White Book as a priest of Clystam might, leading Nerris to doubt the old man could read much of anything. But he quoted the usual wedding passages: swear to love and obey, covet no one else while you both shall live, and other phrases of the sort.

  Rannis then produced a long string, which he tied around the couple’s intertwined hands. He pronounced them husband and wife from this day forward,
and only death would come between them. Brannos and Melantha shared a kiss as the guests applauded, and Rannis untied their hands, declaring what was once two had become one, and to go forth and be merry.

  The wedding guests certainly followed that last order to the letter. Craddis brought out cask after cask of ale and beer as the village wives served choice slices from Brannos’s big catch the day before. As night descended, torches were lit and staked in the ground so the celebration could continue. Dist didn’t feel this was enough light, and directed some youths into building a fire ring large enough to hold a bonfire. After accumulating some spare firewood, sticks, and a generous donation of his “magic fuel,” he soon had a six-foot flame burning.

  Melantha’s family brought out more food, and while Nerris helped himself to a large portion of venison, he noticed Len-Ahl staring at all the meat in revulsion. She had been pecking at the walnuts all night, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

  “Did you enjoy the ceremony?” Nerris asked.

  Len-Ahl smiled upon seeing him. “Oh, yes. I have never seen a wedding before. What are we to do now?”

  “Some keep drinking until the sun comes up.” Nerris pointed to a ring of villagers, locked hand in hand and dancing in a circle to the tune of a jig from the impromptu troubadours. “Some like to dance instead.”

  “I think I prefer the dancing,” Len-Ahl said, “but I do not know how.”

  “There’s one way to learn.” Nerris gestured toward the dancers.

  Her eyes widened. “You would not dare!”

  Nerris took hold of her shoulders, and despite her squeals and protests thrust her into the throng. The circle opened up and two dancers grabbed either of her hands, continuing to spin. Nerris cast a mischievous grin in her direction as she twirled round and round, mouth open in surprise. However, on her fourth pass, she wrenched one of her hands free and grabbed Nerris’s. Before he could protest, they drew him into the circle as well, and he found himself flailing around to the melody of “Old Mig’s Jig.” He looked at Len-Ahl, and she smiled now, all vestige of anxiety gone. When the song ended, the circle broke up, and they all applauded.